


The Daily Grind

by notlucy



Series: MCU Kink Bingo - NotLucy [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bonding, Bucky thinks with his little head, Come Eating, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Honey Badger Steve Rogers, Idiots in Love, Knotting, M/M, Omega Steve Rogers, Possessive Behavior, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rutting, grumpy steve rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 08:24:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12744618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notlucy/pseuds/notlucy
Summary: In a perfect world, the need to rut and an omega in heat would line up every time. Bucky's world is rarely perfect. Steve puts up with him regardless.





	The Daily Grind

Every single omega in Brooklyn was in heat, Bucky was sure of it. The smell of it was overwhelming as he traversed the dark streets, heading home to the tiny apartment he and Steve had been sharing for the better part of six months now. Sometimes he still marveled at the fact that it was theirs, a place just for the two of them. And sure, the windows squealed when you opened them and fought you when you tried to shut them again. The bathrooms were communal, and there was never enough hot water to go around. But it was worth every discomfort because it meant coming home to Steve every night.

His Steve. His omega. Who was ornery and difficult and drove Bucky up the damn wall every day.

His Steve, whose heats were irregular and infrequent, coming once every couple of months if they came at all. Any doctor he’d ever seen had concluded that it was due to the overwhelming amount of illness Steve had endured in his twenty-one years on earth. Bucky didn’t know how that was entirely fair, considering everything else Steve had going against him. Not least of which was the fact that he was prickly about his biology, angry at being not just sick and frail but also _male_ and omega when everyone knew that was different and strange. Wrong, somehow, even if nobody said it out loud because commenting on it was rude, but you just got the sense that they were pitying him behind closed doors anyway.

Bucky didn’t pity Steve. No, Bucky loved him. He’d been in love with him as long as he could remember. If he was honest it had been since they were kids, Bucky winning Steve’s fights for him on the playground. That childhood infatuation had intensified once Steve had presented - late, of course, puberty delayed by the same illnesses that still made his life difficult. They’d assumed he’d be a beta. They’d been wrong. One day he’d just turned up _different,_ and Bucky hadn’t stopped sniffing around him ever since.

Steve had resisted the idea at first. Insisted that Bucky needed someone who could give him pups, someone who wasn’t broken. Pushed Bucky away, called him lovesick and stupid, fought him at every turn. Tried his damndest to break Bucky’s heart to deny himself what they both knew felt right.

Bucky had tried. He’d played the role of the cad - gone out dancing and drinking, going home with any pretty omega who flashed a smile his way. It had been fun, but it hadn’t been real. It hadn’t been Steve.

Steve was real. Steve, who smelled like nobody else in the world. Who’d spent the better part of three years fighting Bucky tooth and nail over the idea that maybe they were just meant to be together. Who’d insisted that it didn’t matter how much they might have _wanted_ each other, they weren’t _good_ for each other. That _he_ wouldn’t be good for _Bucky_.

As was often the case, Steve had been wrong. Financial concerns had necessitated the cohabitation of their apartment (or, rather, Steve had been out of money and Bucky had feigned a need to move out of his folks’ place). It wasn’t _charity_ , he’d explained, it was just common sense. So they’d rented the fourth-floor walk-up and Steve had insisted on sleeping on the couch.

About two months into the arrangement, Steve had gone into heat, trying to hide it from Bucky until he’d been left pained and terrified, sobbing into the cushions of his makeshift bed. And Bucky, well, he’d gotten home from work that day and had been hit by a wall of _Steve_ , writhing on the couch, begging Bucky to take him, knot him, bite him. Bucky didn’t like to think he was ruled by his biology, but an invitation like that was hard to turn down. So he’d done what Steve begged him to do, the raised bonding mark on Steve’s neck an indication to the world that this omega - this tiny, angry little omega - he belonged to someone. He was _Bucky’s_.

Which was why the fact that every goddamn omega in Brooklyn was in heat on that sticky August night made things _real_ inconvenient. Because while Bucky was one hundred percent sure that Steve was his, he was also pretty sure that Steve _wasn’t_ in heat. Which was unfortunate, because the sweet smell that permeated his nostrils all the way home had him hard as a rock and aching to rut into anyone or anything by the time he pushed open the door to their place.

Steve was asleep, of course, curled up on his side of the rickety bed they now shared with his back to the door. He was shirtless, as it was too damn hot for much clothing, with their cheap cotton sheet pulled up to his waist. He’d left a lamp on for Bucky, the dim yellow glow illuminating every bump of his imperfect spine. His scent - milk and cinnamon and _warmth_ that belied his tough exterior - hit Bucky’s nostrils, and he inhaled deeply. Wasn’t the same as a heat-smell, but it was still a Steve-smell. Drove him crazy anyway. He kicked the door shut behind him and barely thought to knock off his boots before he was crawling into bed behind Steve, pawing at him, anxious to wake him up.

“Huh…?” Steve managed, jolted into sudden wakefulness by Bucky’s hands on his hips, his stomach, his chest. “Bucky, what…?”

“Need you, Stevie,” he said, kissing at the bond mark, rubbing his hard prick right up against the cleft of Steve’s ass. Wasn’t enough. Not enough friction. “Come on, sugar, wake up for me.”

He wouldn’t force Steve. He wasn’t that kind of alpha - not like the rough men he worked with who demanded things from their omegas, putting their own pleasure above the needs of their bonded. But _sometimes_ , when the need to rut overwhelmed every other thought in Bucky’s head, he understood the impulse. How the desire to stick your cock in a warm, wet hole could bury any common sense you had under a pile of _want want want_ and _mine mine mine_.

“Bucky, I’m tired,” Steve protested, twisting himself around to look up at Bucky in the dim light of the room. He was clear-eyed, levelheaded, which was quite the counterbalance to Bucky’s wanton, lusty desire. “Aw, shit,” Steve realized. “You’re…” He shook his head. “Try not to knot me, please? I want to go to sleep after.”

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky agreed, leaning down to capture Steve’s mouth in a kiss, not minding the awkward angle. He didn’t waste any time in slipping a hand under the waistband of Steve’s shorts, palming his cock easily. Like most omegas, Steve wasn’t huge, but he was _sensitive_ , and the easiest way to get him slicked up and ready was to play with his prick.

It wasn’t exactly a hardship - Steve was adorable when Bucky touched him, all wriggly and whiny. Bucky loved watching him squirm, even if he knew Steve would have punched him in the head if he had any idea Bucky associated him with the word _adorable_.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Steve grunted, slim hips jerking against Bucky’s fist, dick twitching in interest.

Bucky grinned, biting down on Steve’s shoulder, teeth grazing the mark he’d left on his pretty omega’s skin. “Gonna slick up for me, Stevie? Get yourself ready?”

Steve nodded, moaning as his cock continued to swell under Bucky’s expert ministrations. It didn’t take long - never did. Still, Bucky had the good sense to make sure, sliding his free hand down the back of Steve’s shorts to check. True to form, all his tricks were working. His Stevie had always been an easy mark.

Good thing, too, as Bucky’s needs weren’t going away. It didn’t help that Steve’s arousal intensified the sweet smell emanating from him in waves. Wasn’t quite as good as an omega in heat - hell, nothing on _earth_ smelled like that, and even that smell paled in comparison to one’s _own_ omega in heat. But still, plain old horny, regular Steve was a good substitute.

“Come on, honey,” Bucky coaxed, taking his hands away from Steve’s body, ignoring the whine of protest as he gripped him by the hips, pulling him up and pushing him over, so he was on all fours, the slick stain evident on the back of his shorts.

God, but he was pretty when he presented like that. Bucky wasn’t some crazy traditionalist, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, either. He suppressed a low growl as he yanked Steve’s underthings down, exposing him entirely before sitting back for a moment to take him in. Couldn’t be helped, Bucky decided, as he leaned down to lick a stripe from Steve’s  balls all the way up to his hole. He tasted so goddamn good. On any other night, he could have stayed there for hours, licking his baby open, sweet and slow. Mostly because Steve _loved_ it, and Bucky adored making him happy.

“Shit, _shit_ ,” Steve panted, lowering his head so he could pillow his cheek on his forearms. Which, shit goddamn, now he was _really_ presenting, and any fleeting thoughts Bucky had about rimming him until he wept were swept aside by the fireworks in his brain screaming at him to mount and claim his fucking property.

“Goddamn, Stevie.” That was about all he could manage as he shucked off his suspenders, unbuttoning his trousers and letting his stiff cock out of its rigid confines. Steve was making the sweetest little keening sounds as Bucky lined himself up at his entrance, and yeah, maybe he ought to have used a finger or two to make it easier, but, well, he wasn’t a saint.

Steve yowled like a goddamn cat as Bucky pushed the head of his prick past his tight rim, scrabbling at the sheets and jerking away.

“Hey,” Bucky said, a warning in his tone as he gripped Steve’s hips tightly, feeling the bones under the skin, his little omega too skinny by half. “You stay where I put you, punk.”

He could almost _feel_ Steve rolling his eyes, the tension evident in his muscles as Bucky moved one hand from his hip to trail down the pale skin of his back. He watched, fascinated, as a shiver ran through Steve’s body, and he repeated the gesture until he had him calmed. Then, when Bucky felt him relax enough, he pushed further in. And fuck, there it was, that sweet, wet heat, different from any other person in the whole damned world. Every time Bucky sank inside him, it felt like coming home.

He luxuriated in that feeling for a moment, the waves of desire pulsing through him while his mind urged him to _take._ He fought it, though, his willpower alone allowing him to still his body and enjoy Steve’s submission.

“ _Move,_ Bucky, come _on_ ,” broke his reverie, Steve letting him know exactly what he thought about how long Bucky was ruminating on the nature of life, love and the universe. Not _that_ submissive, he reminded himself, a smile playing across his features before he pulled his hips back and slammed home once more, jolting Steve forward and cutting off his complaints. If he wanted Bucky to move, Bucky would move.

The thing about a true rut - and this was damn well one of them - was that eventually, he lost control of any common sense. When neither of them was being controlled by their baser instincts, he was capable of fucking Steve slow and sweet, changing positions half a dozen times and teasing him until he broke apart under Bucky’s careful control. But right then, Bucky couldn’t be slow, and he wasn’t sure he could be sweet. Not with the day he’d had, the walk home he’d endured. His fingers dug into Steve’s flesh in a way that would end up leaving him with marks, their bodies coming together time and time again, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the tiny space.

Eventually, Bucky shoved Steve down onto his stomach, forcing him flat against the bed, pushing his legs apart and fucking into him with abandon. He wanted to cover him up, protect him and use him and save him and breed him... _fuck_ he loved him. It was hard to keep those thoughts at bay as he undulated his hips, panting hard, driving him deep into the mattress, the flimsy bedframe squeaking in protest.

When he came, he bit down viciously on the bond mark again, nearly hard enough to break the skin. Steve yelped, before burying his face in the pillow underneath him, squeezing his eyes shut. Bucky, try as he might to fight it, could _feel_ his knot starting to swell.

“Bucky _shit_ ,” Steve protested. “I said no knot…”

“Can’t help it,” Bucky growled, rolling his hips forward again and it felt _sogoodsogoodsogood_ to fill Steve up like that. To tie them together, lock him in place, so he had to be Bucky’s forever and ever. He was never going to let him go again, he decided, nosing at the mark and inhaling deeply. His omega. His.

“God _damn_ it, Buck, I have to go to _work_ tomorrow, and now I’m gonna be up half the night waiting for you to pull your knot outta my ass…” Steve groused.

Steve was so _talkative_. Bucky needed him to...not be so talkative when Bucky felt so warm and pleased with himself. So he grunted, rolling over onto his side and pulling Steve with him, wrapping his arms around his skinny torso and squeezing tightly. “Shh,” he managed, kissing the back of Steve’s neck.

“Don’t _shh_ me, Bucky. You never listen, and now I’m gonna…”

Bucky brought a hand up to cover Steve’s mouth, the other moving down to wrap around his omega’s still-stiff prick. “ _Shh_ ,” he repeated, over Steve’s muffled complaints. He worked his big hand over Steve’s shaft until he felt him twitch and jerk, a few ropes of come spurting weakly over his fingers. Smiling, Bucky brought his hand up to lick it off. Steve tasted good.

Reaching up, Steve pried Bucky’s other hand away from his mouth and shook his head. “You are such an _idiot_ when you get like this.” He said it fondly, though, like Bucky was just some dumb puppy who couldn’t help himself.

“Yup,” Bucky agreed. “You still talk too much.”

Steve sighed, groaning a little when Bucky’s knot pulsed inside of him. “Jerk,” he grumbled. “I’m allowed to complain about the fact that you can’t control your stupid ruts.”

“Yup,” he echoed, kissing the back of Steve’s neck before rearranging them so he could tuck his omega right under his chin, nuzzling the top of his head. He was getting sleepy. Sleep was good, especially when he could fall asleep inside Steve, all nice and warm and tight.

“Feels good, Stevie,” he said, closing his eyes. “Love you.”

Steve shifted his weight, bringing his hands up to rest over Bucky’s. “Love you, too, ya big galoot.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I've never written ABO before, please be gentle with me. 
> 
> This fills Kink Bingo square I3 (A/B/O: Rut Sex). 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at [notlucy](https://notlucy.tumblr.com).


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